Siyah's Tale
by lilmuse
Summary: Do things happen by fate or coincidence? A young princess along with an exasperating yet devilishly handsome man, and a band of gypsies will discover the answer.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

King Charmont smiled down with loving pride at the small misshapen gift residing in the hands of his youngest child. "It's beautiful, Siyah." He said of the slightly dirty and rather lumpy scarf his six-year-old daughter had made for him. With blue eyes that shined out from a tiny face framed by bouncing golden curls, the princess Elena's happy perfection made her gift appear to the eyes of her father as breath-taking.

Kneeling down so he was at eye level, he took the blue scarf and wrapped it around his neck. "Thank you Siyah. Your mother will be pleased to know how well I will be protected against the winter chill." With that he leaned over and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek.

Elena's laughter sparkled throughout the hall as she gently pushed herself away from her father. "Your hairs tickle."

"Oh they do, do they." He replied with a smile as he drew the small child towards himself and rubbed the stubble on his face against her soft cheeks.

"Elena, it's time for your father and me to leave." Ella came into the room and then stopped at the lovely tableau in front of her.

Charmont upon hearing his wife's voice picked up Elena and swung her around. "Say good bye to your mother, Siyah."

The blonde angel stretched out her arms to her mother while she was cradled in her father's arms. "I'll miss you, mummy."

Ella smiled at the serious tone and demeanor of her littlest child. "I'll miss you too, darling." Taking the girl from her father's arms, she then turned to her eldest son, who had just entered. "Matteo, please take your sister."

The tall boy with his mother's dark hair grinned at his little sister. "Come on Siyah, we can't allow mother and father to be late." He said as he gently held her in his arms.

But Elena was not focusing on her brother's words. Instead she was paying attention to her tall, lithe, dark, haired sister, Madeleine; so named after the cook, Mandy. Madeleine, barely reaching her father's shoulder, was laughing at him as her dark curls bounced. "Da, where on earth did you find that scarf?"

Elena shoved herself out of her brother's arms before her father could defend her gift. Running as fast as her short little legs could, she scampered out of the room even as the voices called for her to return. Climbing up to the small cupola in her room, she looked down into the courtyard and watched as her parents' carriage exited through the gate. The oddity in her behavior did not lie in her sad anger but in the fact that her eyes had not even watered. For in fact the Princess, Elena, had never shed a tear in her entire short existence.

Elena felt a hand placed on her shoulder. "I'm sorry Siyah. I didn't know." Madeleine sighed as she brushed her dark curls away from her green orbs that stared at her baby sister with sadness.

"It doesn't matter." Elena replied stonily trying to ignore the sad demeanor of her sister.

"Yes, it does matter." Madeleine stated firmly as she gently yet firmly twisted Elena's body until they were facing each other. "Father was right; it was a beautiful scarf. When I looked closer, I was able to see the hard work you put into it."

Elena glanced up at her sister from behind dry eyelashes.

Madeleine tucked a golden curl behind Elena's ear. "Forgive me?"

And then the sun seemed to shine as Elena smiled up at her sister. There was no need for words as understanding flowed between the two sisters.

Madeleine clasped her sister's hand in her own as they left the cupola. "It is no wonder why Father calls you Siyah. When you smile you truly look like Sunshine."

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Thousands of miles away, a man, who could cry, lay curled up in a corner as racking sobs were torn from his body. Beside him lay the dead bodies of his wife and little girl. "Fathe—."

The man's young son could not finish due to a large arm clobbering him across the head. The boy stumbled back clutching his head as blood began to ooze down the side of his face. However the boy was in more fear due to the angry face of his father looming over him, rather than his cut.

"This is your fault." The man stuttered through painful sobs. He grabbed a bottle sitting on a nearby table and chucked it at his son. "If you had been home where you belonged instead of off playing knights with your friends, this wouldn't have happened."

The boy's arms were thrown up in defense to protect his face. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." He cried as tears began to streak his dirty face. "I didn't know."

The man kicked the boy in the stomach. "Shut up, you." "Shut up." He then whacked the boy across the face as the lad's arms dropped down to cover his stomach. "Get out." The man screamed as he wiped the tears from his eyes. "Get out, boy. You're not my son, you're a murder."

The boy gasped not from the pain but rather from the accusation. "I'm not a murder." He bawled as he curled himself up in defense of the further onslaught. "I didn't kill them."

"Get out!" The brawny man screamed as he wrenched open the door and hurled the boy outside. Slamming the door the man returned to the floor where his wife and daughter lay growing colder and stiffer. Scooping up his wife's body the man rocked her back and forth as he continued to weep.

He sat in the middle of his small hut; a broken man, a man broken by his broken family. The house was also broken; broken and destroyed by the men who had robbed it and who had robbed the honest man of his greatest treasures.

Outside the rickety house the boy lay crying on the ground. Picking himself up he stumbled away into the near by wood. Finally as night drew near the child curled up at the bottom of tree and let sleep overcome his pain.

The next morning it was to the sound of singing that he awoke. Opening his eyes he was startled to see a wrinkled face peering right into his own. He jumped in surprise causing the old woman to laugh. "We was wondering how long it would be before yea waked up." Waddling over to a frying pan the woman stirred the smelly contents. "Bruce, come on now and fill your empty stomach."

A large, simple looking man trundled over. Trying to sneak a glance at the boy, and failing Bruce leaned over and whispered in the woman's ear. She threw down her ladle in a huff. "Very well, but he will be your responsibility."

Bruce rubbed his bald pate, grinning as he hobbled over to the boy. Squatting down beside the grey eyed boy, he stuck out his grimy hand. "Me be Bruce. You can stay with us if you like. Slightly abashed Bruce took back his hand when the boy only stared at him. "What be your name?"

The boy looked down at the ground as he lied. "Anton."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

TEN YEARS LATER…

Elena laughed as the wind whipped through her hair. "Dar, I told you I would win." She wheeled her horse around with a smile sparkling cross her face at the rather annoyed look spreading itself across her elder brother's mouth.

He growled slightly as his black mare trotted towards her. "You cheated."

The golden haired princess shook her head as she stared out across the meadow they had just crossed. "Matteo warned you that I always use any means I can."

His dark curls flew in his face as he shook it. "Yes, well I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt." He followed her line of vision and saw standing on a hill, a man on a large steed. He then tilted his head in her direction. "Sir Routh is going to be very vexed with you. This is the third time this week that you have given him the slip."

She shrugged her shoulders. "It's good practice for him. Besides what could happen to me here?"

D'Artagnan sighed. "Aye, it's true." He then turned his horse back in the direction he'd come. "I believe a certain companion of Madeleine should be arriving at the castle by now. I shouldn't want to disappoint her by not being there, hmm?" With a smile he started to ride away.

His younger sister shook her head at him. "I truly pity you, Dar. You are one love-sick fool." Shaking her head she started to canter towards the forest bordering the edge of the large field.

As she came closer to the edge of the forest her white steed became skittish. "Neenoweth, stop it. There's nothing in there." However at that moment the horse reared up at a blood-curdling sound that echoed from the forest. A scream was wrenched from Elena's throat as she felt herself slip off the horse. And then everything went black as her head hit a rock.

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A Few Hours Later…

"Anton, come here." The large, wrinkled woman beckoned to a man bent over by the large cask he carried on his back.

He grunted before putting down the barrel and trudging over to the gap-toothed gypsy. "What is it, Mave?"

"Bruce found a dead person." The woman pointed at a large man kneeling on the ground next to a limp body.

The scruffy nomad quickened his pace until he knelt beside the grim giant-like man. He brushed aside the long golden hair which masked the dead girl's face. Seeing the dried blood caking her temple, he ran his calloused hand along it, flinching slightly.

"What be the matter, Anton?" The woman blocked the light with her inquisitive face.

"She's not dead. She has only been knocked unconscious." He then got up and started to walk away only to feel a hard whack across the back of his knees.

"Anton, you pick that little girl up, this minute do you here me?" Mave had her left hand on her hip and her right clenched a stick. "We ain't going to be leaving her to the mercy of bad folk."

The grey-eyed man grumbled as he scooped up the lass, none too gently.

"Careful," the frumpy gypsy gruffed "her head is going to roll off with how gruff you be being."

The girl's head flopped downward once more before jolting up as the lady regained consciousness and screamed. Forming her hands into fists she began to pound them into her supposed captor's chest. "Release me, at once."

Anton glared at the girl before swinging her over his shoulder like a sack of feathers. "Stop it, you banshee." He grunted as her fists continued to swing.

Mave and Bruce both tried to stop the two. "Anton, stop this, I tell you." Mave huffed as she tried to catch up with his quickening paces.

"My Lady, we be only wanting to help you." Bruce said with a pleading look on his face.

Neither paid any heed. Anton merely yelled over his shoulder. "We'll meet you back at camp with the othe—!" His sentence was left unfinished by a small fist which and pounded him slightly further down than his back why simultaneously a foot collided with his stomach.

Quick to retaliate, his free hand whacked the girl of high birth on her own hindquarters. Anton smiled to himself as the girl's fists stopped flying. However his satisfaction was short lived as the girl upon being smacked had stretched her arms down his back until her hands clamped around his belt. And yanked.

A look of grim satisfaction appeared on the girl's own face as she heard the man yelp in acute discomfort of his pants being pulled so high. "Now put me down!"

This time the man readily obliged as he dumped her on the ground. "As you wish." He smirked.

The girl looked up and found herself in the middle of a band of gypsies. Men, women and children of the dirtiest nature came around as their attention was drawn to the brightly dressed lady. Like the red sea they parted as a small man with a large, greasy mustache and a red sash strutted forward. "Anton, what's this?"

"Bruce found this lady unconscious near the edge of the Dulmera." He replied hesitantly.

"Good man." The gypsy smiled like a happy baker as he rocked back and forth on his heels. "Take her to my tent."

At that moment Bruce and Mave came out of breath upon the scene. "But Edgar, you can't do that." Mave gasped bending over as she tried to inhale as much air as possible.

Edgar glared at the old woman. "Woman, don't you tell me what I can and can't do. I am the leader of this band and it is only out of my kindness that you are not still in that hell-hole you came from."

"This girl could be worth a great ransom." He then turned on Anton. "Now take her to my tent."

Anton bent down to grab the girl but was stopped by a hand. Edgar knitted his brows in thought. "Oh and remove her jewels and gown. They are undoubtedly worth a large sum."

Anton's jaw tightened as he shrugged the small man's hand from his shoulder and picked up the girl. This time however, the girl noticed that he was gentler and looking into his eyes she saw pity.

Stepping into Edgar's tent, the man carefully set the lady on her feet. "My lady, I'm sorry but I must take your jewels and your gown." Staring at his boots he reached out his hands to remove the lady's cape. His hand shot back though at the painful slap it at received.

He glanced up at the golden haired lady. Her blue eyes seemed cold as they glared at him. "Very well, but you shall not remove them, you uncouth pig."

In a flash, it seemed, he had in his arms the billowing gown and cape while before the willowy girl stood in a white shift. "I'm sorry. I'm truly am. I promise you though that Bruce, Mave and I will try and help you, miss?"

She stared at him for a moment before replying. "Siyah, my name is Siyah Gandeye. I am the only child of Lord Bearmore the XV."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

King Charmont heard a sharp knock on his study door. "Come in." He looked up to see one of his guards enter with a tight frown upon his face. "What is it, Payter?"

The man gulped as his eyes shifted to his feet. "My lord, the princess Elena's horse returned rider less."

Charmont stood so quickly that his sturdy chair clattered to the floor. "Gather a search party at once and have my wife and children informed of this immediately." The king then exited the room so quickly that Payter felt a breeze brush against his face.

"Hello Anton." Coming out of Edgar's tent, Anton turned and saw Naddea smiling coyly at him while playing with her bangles. She walked towards him with an obvious swing to her shapely hips. "It has been quite some time since you and I rehearsed The Doom of Roxanne." Her black eyes stared up at him as she jailed an escape lock of dark hair. "I overheard Edgar tell Gaston that we'll be performing it in the next town—"

At that moment Anton was saved by Mave. "Anton, Anton where are you? You must come and get the keg."

He turned to where he could see the dumpy woman waving her kerchief at him. "Perhaps later, Naddea but I am needed at the moment." He prepared to go but was stopped by a hand on his arm.

"Wait, Edgar wanted me to take the captive's garments. He claims no one can barter like I can." She took the cloth and tried to smile provocatively while holding an armful of clothes; something that doesn't work very well.

He nodded before making a wild dash away from the forward gypsy. He growled at his two friends who were laughing shamelessly.

Bruce was holding his rather large belly. "Poor Anton is being chased by the women."

Mave nodded in agreement. "Aye, and he doesn't know what to do."

Bruce cackled. "I say leave them alone and they go home wagging their—"

Bruce was cut off by a large bellow. "She's escaped. The prisoner has escaped."

Everyone could be seen running around madly in search of the captive. Edgar pulled at his mustache and stomped his feet. "Anton, find her, you lout. Find her!"

Scanning the surrounding area, Anton noticed a patch of something white flitting from behind one tree to another. With a sour grin and an odd gleam in his eyes he went in the opposite direction of the search party. If he heard Mave and Bruce's outcries he must have pretended not to hear.

Elena pressed her body against another tree trunk as someone went careening by. With a sigh she turned to go in the opposite direction only to run directly into someone. A slight gasp erupted from her throat as she looked up into the face of the man that she knew was called Anton.

His lips contorted into a smirk of superiority. "You fooled them well. For that I'll count to ten. One—." He laughed under his breath as she turned to run. Like a gazelle she leaped over a boulder, in fact she might have eluded him except for another person who lay in her way. Anton's laugher died on his lips as he saw Naddea dart from behind a tree and grab onto the girl. Anton muttered a curse as he began to move towards the two.

With a triumphant smile the dark haired girl began to drag the escapee back towards the camp. However she released her grip with a shriek of pain. Anton noted in surprise that the girl with a downward swing of her free arm had broken Naddea's arm.

He broke into a run when he saw Naddea remove a knife from her sash. "This will teach you." She screamed at the lady as she thrust the dagger forward. The dagger was met with air as Siyah ducked and twisted to the side only to pull back up at lightning speed and slam her fist into the gypsy's face.

By now the ruckus had been heard by the others. Two burly men grappled with the girl who had once again turned to run. The larger one then tired of her struggling brought his meaty fist down upon the crown of her head.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Elena woke with a whimper as something wet and stinging was brushed against her cheek. "There now, m'lady. We was worried about you."

Her eyes fluttered upon behind long lashes that clamped shut again upon contact with the piercing brightness of the sun. "My head hurts."

Mave nodded as she wrung out her less than clean rag. "Well, both Thomys and Cliden are infatuated with that Naddea and they didn't take too well to what you did to her."

She winced as she felt the sting of the soapy water seep into her cuts and bruises. "Thomys? I thought his name was Anton."

The old woman looked at her for a moment in puzzlement before realization crept onto her worn face. "Oh no miss, Thomys and Cliden were those two big brutish fellows that brought ye back to camp. Anton, he told Bruce and me that he was planning on letting ye young thing escape."

Elena made to stretch her arms out but found in surprise that she couldn't. She craned her neck around and in anger saw that her wrists were bound with thick rope that was fastened to a large wagon. Her eyes flashed in anger at the woman. "Release me, at once."

The woman sighed. "Edgar forbade it."

Even sitting down the girl stomped her foot. "I don't care what that trollish oaf said. I command you to untie me at once."

The woman backed away a little in shock. "I-, I dare not m'lady." She looked over her shoulder. "B-, but Edgar never said nothing 'bout how long it could be." Going over to the wagon wheel she loosened it until it was about twenty feet in length. Wiping her hands on her apron she came back to retrieve her bucket. "There miss now you can stretch your legs a bit."

For many hours Elena sat there while the vagabonds when about their work. As they passed her they would try to give covert looks in her direction. After awhile her stomach began to growl rather noisily making her blush at the unladylike sounds emitting from her stomach.

"Here's some food for ye." She looked up to see Anton squatting in front of her with a plate of some sort of hash. He extended it towards her finding it hard not to laugh at the delicate way she took it from him and began to eat, even as her stomach grumbled at the tantalizing aromas. When she was done she handed it back to him and then waved her hand in gesture of dismissal.

However after only a few steps her voice halted him. "Wait."

He turned with a raised eyebrow. "Yes, Siyah?"

"Don't call me that. It is quite inappropriate and improper for you to use such a familiar tone with me. Such a familiarity insinuates an equality of rank." All the while she was looking at him quite sternly like an angel of justice.

Anton let a smirk play across his mouth. "Yes, but as you are the captive I don't think it is proper for you to be making rules, Siyah." He let her name roll across his tongue in a rather mocking manner in hopes of gaining a scowl from her. He wasn't disappointed.

Again he turned to leave but this time was stopped by Edgar and two gypsy women. One had her arm bandaged and black eye decorated her face while the other was simply of a much more robust nature. Edgar marched over to Anton and placed his hand on his hip, in what he thought was a commanding manner. "There is quite a problem, Anton. It will be quite impossible for Naddea to play the role of Roxanne in her current state." At that both Edgar and Naddea glared at Siyah, who feigned a look of half innocence and partial smugness.

Edgar cleared his throat while gesturing at the other woman. "Esperanza is the best we could find for a substitute which is why you and Naddea must coach her in the leading role."

Esperanza nodded as she grimly folded her arms across her chest. "I already know the lineth tho that than't be a problem." translation "I already know the lines so that shan't be a problem.

Anton realized with horror the hopeless fact that Esperanza lisped. He cleared his throat as he rubbed his temple. "Is there no way that Naddea could hide her bandages?"

Even Siyah looked at him like he was an idiot. Edgar growled at her. "Thanks to this woman it will be weeks before Naddea will be able to perform."

Edgar walked away in a huff. As the two gypsies were left to try and transform a common woman into an actress. An hour had passed and no progress had been made. The three actors had turned cantankerous at their fruitless labors while growing even more aggravated at the prisoner who kept chortling at their attempts.

Finally Naddea turned on her in a rage. "Well then you do better oh-great-and-accomplished-one. Since of course all ladies are consummate actresses."

Elena tried to hide her laughter. "I have no reason to prove myself." She pretended to think before grinning devilishly. "No, I think I'd rather just enjoy watching you try transforming a stick of wood into a violin."

The dark haired gypsy leaned down until her face was merely inches away from the prisoner. "You do better or you won't receive either food or drink." She then stood back smiling in contempt, believing she now had the upper hand.

Siyah raised a single eyebrow at this. "I didn't know that my opinion was so desperately required." She extended her hands out in front of her. "Very well then untie me and I will do as you begged."

Naddea's face turned sour as she realized she had been bested. "And allow you to escape? I'm sorry but no."

The girl's lips curled into a humorless smile. "I highly doubt I would get very far."

Anton grunted in agreement. "Very well then." He sliced the rope holding her hands captive with the dagger he had whipped out of his belt.

Siyah didn't bother to rub her wrists even though one could see they had been chaffed badly. She walked over to Esperanza who had been silent during the discussion. "Esperanza, what do you think of Roxanne?"

The woman looked confused.

The lady in her chemise tilted her head. "I mean have you pretended to be Roxanne."

The gypsy looked at her as if she was crazy. "Why would I pretend to be thomeone elthe?" translation "why would I pretend to be someone else"

Elena smiled. "Because when people watch you perform they want to believe that you are Roxanne in order for them to believe, you must pretend to be her. Now try again."

Esperanza nodded and concentrated for a moment before starting. She looked at Anton. "Thir why mutht you teathe me tho?" translation "sir why must you tease me so"

Anton's mouth stood agape at the improvement because instead of saying her lines as laconically and tonelessly as possible she spoke as if she was slightly hurt.

Siyah clapped her hands. "Better, much better but remember although Roxanne is hurt she still loves him."

Esperanza scratched her nose as she stared blankly at the lady.

Elena sighed. "Here, watch me." She walked over to Anton and placed a pained look upon her face. "Sir, why must you tease me so?" She looked down as her shoulders sagged and her face became sad and pensive. "What you ask is impossible." Her face suddenly turned into a glare. "Anton, you must say your lines."

He nodded as he shook himself out of the spell woven by performance before him. "Why, don't you love me with the same fervor that I do you?"

An actual tear began to form in the girl's blue eye. "It is not about love, Christian. If I married you your father would disown you."

Anton clenched his fists as he immersed himself in the role that he knew by heart. "It matters not to me."

"Oh it doesn't?" Siyah, who seemed to have become Roxanne, brushed at the tears coursing down her cheeks. "Where will you live? What will you eat?"

Anton was about to continue but was stopped by a voice which seemed to rip through the fabricated story that they had fallen into. "Bravo! This is the answer to our problem." Edgar broke through a cluster of people who had stopped their work to watch. "Anton, Naddea we need not worry now." He even almost smiled at Siyah. "This lady Siyah will be Roxanne." His eyes began to cloud over. "Yes, and we'll make a fortune for never will people be brought to tears as they will be by her."

Naddea's face began to turn red. "Her as Roxanne? But Edgar Roxanne is supposed to have beautiful dark hair and, and… and." However her outcry died away as she realized the stupidity of her argument.

Elena though was equally as displeased. "I will not consent. It would be most scandalous and unfitting for a lady to participate in play acting."

Edgar turned a shade of purple at having his authority questioned. "You will if I demand you to. We'll put soot in your hair and make you look the part, because I say so."

Siyah's jaw clenched as she realized she had no choice.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Siyah stood in the left wing of a small theatre guarded by Thomys and Cliden. She was hardly recognizable. Her hair was the darkest shade of black and her lips instead of being their natural shade of pink were a vibrant shade of red which seemed to perfectly match the red rose deftly positioned in her long tresses.

She nodded at Anton who was already on stage before making her first entrance. The audience's response was identical to that of every other theatre they had been to in the past two weeks; that of rapt silence. The usually boisterous and uncouth public stared in awe at the delicate and unblemished girl who stood before them.

Her dress was of the purest black accented by the red petticoats beneath. She stood there barefoot twisting a piece of the frayed hem in her hand. And in the silence the crowd believed that she really could be Roxanne.

Anton stood in amazement as his character was supposed to be falling in love with the doomed girl. He noted that Naddea even at her best had never elicited such a response from the usually mob-like theatre patrons. His grey eyes looked wonderingly upon the lady. What was she? Who was she? He was beginning to have his doubts about her story. Not simply because he was witnessing her capability to transform into whomever she desired. No there was just some quality about her that he couldn't quite categorize. And he couldn't help but admit to himself that he found that quality highly attractive.

Out of the corner of her eye, Siyah observed that Anton was not such a bad actor himself. He knew how to use his eyes to convey so many subtle hints to the audience. In all appearance he seemed like a young nobleman whom had found his heart stolen by a young woman of the streets. Yet she hated this so, to be stared at like she was the long lost master of a hungry pack of wolves. Silently she seethed at the most immodest gown she was being forced to wear. In all actuality she felt more covered in her chemise than this gown with its tight corset which made her bosom heave heavily with every single breath.

It was now the final act, as Anton came over to her in his character of a young nobleman, the Duke Jacque Christian, smitten by a common street wastrel who sold herself to survive. He knelt down beside her as she pretended to die with the dagger intended for Duke thrust threw her chest. Tears were coursing down both actors cheeks. "You weren't supposed to die, you are innocent." Anton wept.

Siyah turned towards him as a false gasp brushed past her lips. "Innocence dies on the streets."

Anton's mouth quivered as his arms held the dying maiden. "No, you are as innocent as an angel."

Siyah's lips twisted into a smile that seemed to the audience slightly grotesque to be appearing on a dying woman's face. "Lucifer was an angel and see how he met his doom." With that her body seemed to shudder and die. And then Anton did something that wasn't supposed to happen. He kissed her.

The silent audience then let a roar of applause escape like a flood out of the Tiber as the curtain fell.

Siyah's dead eyes flashed open as she shoved Anton away. "I know the audience may have appreciated your artistic liberty but don't ever do that again." She whispered fiercely.

Anton raised his eyebrow in order to hide his confused blush. "Well if it could move tweedledum and tweedledummer over there to tears then I will continue to do it." He nodded in the direction of Thomys and Cliden who were blubbering like two old ladies at a wedding.

Siyah merely huffed before scrambling up to take a bow as the curtain rose.

"By the way" Whispered Anton. "you should where dresses like that more often."

To the outside world she just seemed to smile more brightly but Anton winced as he felt her nails dig into the palm of his hand. Then the curtain fell again and before he could reply she was in the wing with a swish of her skirts as she was escorted away.

The next day Anton was awoken with a soft kick to his side. "Up, up we're moving out and Edgar wants you before we go."

Anton rolled over with a groan. "Thank you, Mave. You sure know how to wake someone up."

She kicked him softly again. "Enough of your teasin', Edgar is in a good mood, so don't you go and be the one to change it." Mave was then gone with one last kick.

Anton pulled on his boots with another groan before scrambling out of his tent to go find Edgar. The man stood in the middle of the camp waving his arms about as he gave orders that had become quite perfunctory to his caravan. He then turned and saw Anton. "Ah, Anton! I have the best news." He smiled gleefully. "Last night a noble witnessed the performance you and the girl gave. And he wants us to perform it at his Midsummer festival."

Anton raised his eyebrows in amazement. "That's terrible."

Edgar glared. "What do you mean it's terrible, this is the best thing—, ever since that girl arrived. Our luck has changed and we are finally doing well."

Anton shook his head. "But surely at this festival someone will recognize Siyah."

Edgar waved his hand. "I've already thought of that. We'll let no one see her except for when she's on stage and even then they won't recognize her since she'll be in costume."

Anton sighed. "I just don't think its right."

Edgar's nostrils flared angrily. "You're not supposed to think, you idiot. That's my job. Now go down to the river and collect the girl from Thomys and Cliden. I need them for other things so until we reach Hampvale, the girl will be your charge."

As Anton walked away he cursed under his breath. The last thing he needed was to be around that girl. When he was around her he couldn't seem to think straight.

His knitted brows and grimace turned into a smirk as he saw the state of the lady. Her hair was let down as she slowly washed away the dark soot. Still in her chemise, she made a pretty picture. However a frown returned to his face as he noted that the two men were also getting to see this.

"Hey, Thomys, Cliden! Edgar wants you now." Thomys and Cliden without further ado took off like two lapdogs returning to their master.

Siyah looked up and scowled as she saw who approached. "What do you want?"

We're heading out. Lord Cybil Rutsger of Hampvale as requested us for his Midsummer Festival."

Shockingly Siyah insolent sneer turned to fright. Her face became as white as a sheet. "I can't" she replied laconically.

"You have to."

"I won't." She replied forcefully as her posture returned to its regular defiance.

"You'll go, even if I have to carry you."

The girl's eyes got large before she tried to make a wild dash into the roaring water. The current was stronger than she could have guessed. Anton's breath caught in his throat and before he could think about what he was doing, he had dove in after her.

Later on he couldn't recall how but somehow he managed to drag them both back to the shore and onto the rocks. As he lay there panting, the girl again tried to escape. "Fine, if you won't behave then you don't get to walk." He then slung her over his shoulder and started to march towards Hampvale.

"Put me down, you caveman." She screamed as she started to pound her fists against his back.

At that moment Bruce came sidled up to them with a pack on his back. He looked at Anton's load and groaned. "How come I'm always stuck carrying these pots and pans, while you get to carry her." He shook his head. "It's simply not fair." And then he walked off as if it were a normal occurrence to see girls slung over a strong male's shoulder.

MlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlMlM

For three days they traveled towards Hampvale and during this time the lady had to learn to travel in such an unusual manner. Anton every once and a while would switch her from one shoulder to the other but at this time she was sitting over his left shoulder while propping her head by placing her elbows on his back. Walking behind them were Mave and Bruce with whom she was having quite a lovely time.

"I wish you hadn't given her those peanuts, you two." Anton complained to Mave and Bruce, who simply laughed at his expense.

"But it was too much fun not to." Bruce chimed in.

Siyah nodded as she chewed on another one. "That's right, besides it serves you right." With that she cracked another shell and displayed the annoyance the peanuts served towards the man. She dropped the shells down his shirt.

"Just so you know they are extremely uncomfortable." Anton said as an understatement.

Elena laughed as she patted him on the back of his head. "Oh I'm so sorry. But for some odd reason I deep satisfaction from it."

"Aye" nodded Mave. "It keeps thing pretty thing in such happy moods. It would simply be a shame to ruin her fun."

Anton sighed. "I find it so reassuring to see where your loyalties lie."

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And it was in this almost friendly manner that they traveled to the festival. When they finally arrived however and Anton set the girl down, he observed that all would not be well now as the lady almost fell from whatever fright that had made her loath to come.

Anton prevented her from falling by grabbing her by the elbow and bolstering her up. He then looked up straight into the face of the Duke Cybil Rutsger of Hampvale.


End file.
